imnotawriteryet

Fri, 02 Nov 2007 23:29:39 GMT

Title: Thanksgiving
Chapter: 2/5
Fandom: Degrassi: The Next Generation
Characters: Sean Cameron, Tracker Cameron, Mr. and Mrs. Cameron
Prompt: Thanksgiving
Word Count: 2,304
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sean's life as seen from the same day years apart.
Author's Notes: I hope short chapter stories are allowed for this prompt table? We'll see.

Thanksgiving 2003

Sean Cameron stood in front of Emma’s door, trying to calm his nerves before knocking. A pumpkin pie in a pink pastry box was balanced on one hand while the other raked through his hair. He wasn’t used to having his head uncovered these days, but he figured a holiday deserved a little more dressing up then his typical bandana-hoodie uniform.

Last week, when Emma had asked him it had seemed so innocent and natural. Now it seemed like a giant test that he was doomed to fail again, remembering last year’s amazingly horrific sushi date with Emma’s parents. He didn’t want to show them again how he wasn’t worthy of their daughter.

Putting the pie box down he took a moment on Emma’s porch to collect himself and remember the hallway conversation that had brought him here.

“So about Thanksgiving?” Emma asked as she watched Sean gather his books from his locker.

Instantly Sean’s whole face darkened. “What about it?” he practically growled.

“Is Tracker still going to Wasaga?” Emma asked timidly. The force with which Sean slammed his locker shut was all the answer she needed. “And you’re not?”

“Do I really need to answer that for you?” he asked. “They gave up any rights they had to holiday visits when they gave up on me.” Sean started to stride down the hall, before he sighed and returned to where Emma still stood, looking more than a little shell-shocked. “I’m sorry, Em. I’m not angry with you. Just it’s not the easiest time of year, you know?”

Emma nodded, taking one of his hands into hers and lacing her fingers with his. “I know. But it won’t get any easier if you keep spending it alone.” Sean started to pull away again at her words, but Emma gripped his wrist with her other hand, challenging him to look her in the eyes.

When he did, she continued, “I’m not saying ‘Go to Wasaga,’ Sean. I mean, I think you should, but until you’re ready it won’t help anything. I’m saying don’t spend Thanksgiving alone. Spend it with me?”

“With you, huh?” he said, squeezing her fingers slightly. “And who are you spending it with?”

“Well, with you, hopefully. And Mom and Snake and Jack. Caitlin and Liz can’t fly out and Joey is going to his mother’s or else we’d have Joey, Sydney, Craig and Angie, too,” She listed the names as if they were family and Sean realized that to her they were. She had this huge loving support group that he couldn’t even imagine having grown up with, even if conventional wisdom claimed his two parent household was more “stable” then her single teenage mother. “I know you don’t like big things, but it’s really just my family. Please come. No one should be alone on Thanksgiving, Sean,” she pleaded.

Sean smiled a bit at the hopeful look she had in her eyes like she was afraid that he could actually say “no” to her. It hadn’t happened yet. “Well, when you put it that way . . .” he replied, his smile showing how much he was teasing. She hugged him tightly before pulling back to race to her next class, letting her fingertips linger in hers as long as possible.

Miss Nelson had called later that day with a more formal invitation and Sean had replied that he’d be honored in a stilted sort of way that Tracker mocked for the next week. Sean could tell that his brother was relieved he wasn’t spending his holiday wallowing in past hurts, though. Tracker liked Emma, despite their first meeting, and threatened to tell their parents all about her, until Sean made him swear to secrecy. He didn’t want his parents to know about anything in his life, particularly Emma. She was too good for them, too good for him really, but she hadn’t seemed to notice. Sean couldn’t help feeling meeting his parents would be the one thing that would finally get her to realize that, despite her efforts to foster a reconciliation.

He had offered to bring something, to which Mrs. Nelson directed him the bakery that had made the pie that now sat at his feet. Probably melting or getting cold or whatever it was pumpkin pies did when they were left outside too long by chickens disguised as boyfriends.

With the sobering thought that he could ruin the very simple part of the meal he had been given, Sean picked up the pastry box and knocked firmly on the door.

Emma answered it quickly, almost as if she had known he was there, before pulling him in quickly by the lapel and shutting the door quietly behind him.

“Em, what?” Sean started, but Emma kissed him quickly.

“Shhhhhhhhhhhh,” she breathed as she pulled back.

If that was her method of shutting him up, it wasn’t exactly incentive to stop talking, Sean thought wryly, but he wisely decided to keep that thought to himself.

He suddenly sniffed a strange odor in the air and raised one eyebrow in question.

“Mom’s having a little trouble with a new recipe and she’s terrified that you won’t like it. No matter what, you have to pretend to enjoy it,” Emma demanded.

“Enjoy what?” Sean whispered. “It smells like motor oil.”

Emma pulled back looking slightly miffed. “It’s not motor oil; it’s tofurkey.” She reopened the door and then slammed it, calling out loudly “Sean!” and hugging him.

She had perfect timing as Miss Nelson came out of the kitchen just as Emma was pulling away. “Sean,” she greeted him. “I’m so happy you could join us. And you brought my pie! Thank you so much.”

“Thank you for the invitation, Miss Nelson. The pie is nothing, really,” Sean said, awkwardly avoiding a hug by holding the pink box out to her.

“Snake’s in the kitchen whipping his ‘top secret’ potatoes, so we’re not allowed in there until he finishes his secret ingredients,” Emma confided, giggling. “Plus, I don’t actually think he knows what to do with tofurkey.”

“Which means we’re out here VISITING WITH SEAN!” Spike shouted into the kitchen, smiling.

“Sean?” Snake shouted, ducking his head through the door. Sean caught a glimpse of a red apron that appeared splattered with potatoes. “Sean can come on in. Mashing potatoes is manly work.” Noticing Emma’s raised eyebrow he quickly amended his statement. “I mean that in a completely non-sexist, holiday joking sense of the word manly, of course.”

Around the friendly banter, Sean couldn’t help but relax. He joined Snake in the kitchen to help with the mashed potatoes, for which the secret ingredient turned out to be merely paprika – hardly an earth shaking secret considering its distinctive reddish hue.

There was no televised hockey here, just conversation and food. It was light and happy, even if everyone seemed a bit distant. Sean knew that Emma was distracted by some SITE event she had planned for the next week and Spike was distracted by Baby Jack, but Snake seemed a bit spacey in spite of his large print “Kiss the Cook” declarations.

It was a small complaint really, when compared to the Thanksgivings of his childhood and Sean was grateful to have been included. He felt a bit like a voyeur on a happy family scene at times, but he knew it was his own inability to let his guard down more than any sort of deficit on Emma’s family’s part to make him feel included. He was given the honor of bringing the pseudo-turkey to the table for Snake to “carve,” which Sean did with a small smile of pride.

“We’re not really a religious family, Sean, don’t get the wrong idea,” Snake started before he cut into the sorta turkey. “But I think there are certain moments, where you have to give some sort of acknowledgement to a higher power. And standing here for my first Thanksgiving with my beautiful wife and our beautiful children and someone who has been a great friend to my daughter, well I can’t help but want to say ‘Thank . . .”

Later Sean would describe it as if the air had simply gone out of Snake as he abruptly stopped speaking and slowly deflated, his eyes rolling back into his head.

“SNAKE!” Spike shouted at almost the same time as Emma. Jack sensing the confusion or perhaps startled by the noise from his carrier seat began to scream. Sean reached Snake first and rolled him gently onto his back.

“Emma, call an ambulance,” Sean said, his voice calm and firm. “He’s breathing, but we don’t want to take any chances.”

Snake stirred slightly, before actually waking to stare at the assorted faces above him. “What happened?”

“You collapsed,” Spike sobbed, still visibly shaken. “Emma’s calling the ambulance now. Don’t move.”

“No!” Snake demanded, his voice so sharp that Emma dropped the phone in surprise. “I mean, don’t. I just fainted. I did the other day after class. I think my . . . uh, I think my blood sugar’s a bit low.”

“You fainted the other day?” Spike’s voice was still tinged with tears, but now the predominant tone was one of anger. “Were you planning on telling us?”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” Snake explained, sitting up to lean against the sink. “The doctors don’t have the test results back as to what this thing is and I just . . . didn’t want you to worry.”

“Well, you did a fabulous job of that!” Spike wiped at her tears angrily.

Emma was standing watching her parents argue in louder and louder voices as Jack wailed in the background. Sean felt more than a little uncomfortable watching their argument and moved toward pulling Emma to the door. She didn’t need to see this after the scare she had just had. He knew that Miss Nelson was probably reacting out of fear and stress more than actual anger, but it wasn’t something her children needed to witness.

Emma snapped out of her trance long enough to nod toward her brother, and Sean silently agreed, moving slowly out of the kitchen without her. In a few moments, Emma followed through the swinging door, carrying a still wailing Jack in her arms.

“Shhhh, Jackie, don’t cry,” Emma whispered to her brother, her own shock wearing off to the point where she herself was in tears. “Your daddy will be alright. Everything will be alright.”

Sean’s heart broke a little bit as he watched her and he moved behind her to try and embrace the both of them. There wasn’t much he could do to help heal Snake’s blood cells, but he could offer whatever support he could.

Emma pulled away sharply, indicating her brother in her arms. “Sean, not now, okay?”

Sean’s response was spared by the entrance of Snake and Spike. The apron had been shed in favor of a heavy coat for both adults. “Em, we’re going to run to the hospital to make sure that this isn’t something more serious,” Snake said, his voice thick with forced levity as if to make up for the ugly scene both teenagers had just had to witness.

Emma nodded, all trace of her earlier tears miraculously gone, Sean noticed. She was so good at hiding her emotions that if he hadn’t been here to witness her breakdown, he might not have believed it had happened either.

“Can you watch Jack, Em?” Spike asked softly, her own face still streaked with tear tracks. Sean was struck by how the two Nelson women could be so completely similar in some aspects and completely different in others.

“Of course, Mom,” Emma smiled perkily, although Sean noted it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Thanks, baby. I know I can count on you,” Spike whispered, hugging her daughter tightly.

Sean watched Emma’s body stiffen at her mother’s words and felt a sort of kinship with her suddenly. It seemed he wasn’t the only one that had to keep a careful guard in place for protection. While Sean protected himself from his parents, Emma protected her parents from her own fears.

“Sean,” Snake started as if he suddenly noticed him standing there. “I’m sorry this wasn’t the holiday you expected. Please, you and Em help yourself. Don’t let those top secret mashed potatoes go to waste, right?”

“Mr. S, don’t worry about me. Just get yourself checked out,” Sean said. He wanted to hug him or shake his hand. To do something to indicate that the small glimpse of happy family life was more than he had received at any previous holiday and he was grateful. But Mr. Simpson looked so frail, that he ended up just giving a small halfway.

Miss Nelson smiled at Sean as if she understood completely and Sean somehow wondered if maybe she did.

The two left finally, Emma watching out the window until her parents’ car was out of sight. As soon as they were, she turned to Sean with a small apologetic smile, Jack still wailing in her arms.

“I’m going to see if I can get him to go down. When he gets like this, sometimes he just tires himself out,” she explained.

“What can I do to help?” Sean asked.

Emma shrugged. “If you wait, I’ll make you a plate to go before I put all that stuff away. Forgive me if I’m not exactly hungry after . . . everything, you know?”

“I can make my own plate and put things away, Em. Or let me hold Jack while you do it,” Sean offered, anxious to offer some sort of support.

“I can handle it, you know?” Emma snapped back at him. She wasn’t sure she could, but she couldn’t allow herself to depend on someone that would leave her. Not when she was so close to losing the only dad she ever had. “I don’t need your help, Sean.” She didn’t. Not yet. And she couldn’t allow herself to get to a point where she did.

Sean himself knew better than to think that she would admit that she needed him, but he had hoped she would be able to say she wanted his help. But why would anyone want him around? After all, hadn’t his parents made that abundantly clear three years ago? Sean reminded himself angrily.

“Fine!” Sean huffed, too angered by her words to try and rationalize why she was lashing out. If she wanted to attack the one person that was trying to help her, it didn’t mean he had to stick around for it. “I’ll see you in school. If you can handle that, that is.”

He stomped out the door, slamming it behind him. He paused for a moment to catch his breath, glancing through the living room window. Emma was sitting on the couch, rocking her brother, her sobs drowning out those of her brother’s. Immediately he felt a deep regret, although he was too proud to go back in to where he knew he was needed. If Emma wouldn’t admit it, he wasn’t going to force the issue.

Turning away and walking down the steps, his face expressionless, Sean couldn’t think of a moment where he had better demonstrated he didn’t deserve her. Yet he still couldn’t turn back, his mix of anger and stubbornness overriding any feelings of guilt.

Sean should have known better to get his hopes up for tonight. The location and faces may have changed but he was still Sean Hope Cameron and it was still Thanksgiving Day.

Part 1

Thanksgiving part 1/5

Sun, 21 Oct 2007 20:52:48 GMT

Title: Thanksgiving
Chapter: 1/5
Fandom: Degrassi: The Next Generation
Characters: Sean Cameron, Tracker Cameron, Mr. and Mrs. Cameron
Prompt: Thanksgiving
Word Count: 2,304
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sean's life as seen from the same day years apart.
Author's Notes: I hope short chapter stories are allowed for this prompt table? We'll see.

Thanksgiving was not one of those holidays the Cameron family celebrated well. Sure, there would be turkey, if Mrs. Cameron was lucky enough to find one to fit into the budget. Usually though, it was canned ham and instant mashed potatoes. Any money spent on the meal would be the liquid portion of the meal and usually downed before the Maple Leaf’s game had even had the opening face-off. At the first intermission, Tracker would take his little brother into the kitchen, heat up the ham in the tiny oven and pour some potato flakes into water on the stove. The two of them would eat a meal together ignoring the sounds of their father’s snores from where he lay passed out on the couch, their mother beside him.

It wasn’t much of a holiday, but it was tradition and a day off school and Sean had trouble arguing with anything that got him out of school.

Which is why twelve year old Sean was so apprehensive, when he walked into his parent’s house to find the entire place filled with the smell of a baking turkey. He hadn’t expected much as Tracker had moved out of the house for a job in Toronto that summer, removing Sean’s only actual support system, such as it was. But apparently his mother had outdone herself. The table had an actual table cloth on it and a pumpkin pie from a local shop in the center. Sean didn’t realize his mother owned a table cloth.

The surprises didn’t end there, however, as Tracker walked out from the kitchen and greeted his brother.

“Tracker!” Sean cried. He started to embrace his brother before realizing he wasn’t a boy anymore and pulled back at the last minute. “I mean, how you doing?”

Tracker looked bemused at Sean’s last minute change of heart. “Better than you, I hear, little bro.”

Sean looked down at his shoe tops nervously. “So . . . umm . . . you heard about that?”

“Heard that you got jumped on your way to school last week? Or heard that you responded by hitting the kid so hard in the head they’re not sure he’ll ever hear again, let alone what other brain damage you might have caused?” Tracker asked, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.

“For that to happen, he would have had to have a brain to begin with,” Sean muttered, turning away from his brother.

“You think this is a joke, Sean?” Tracker lashed out, angrily.

Sean knew he should feel guilty or at least somewhat relieved. It was a serious thing and if Tyler or his parents had decided to press charges, Sean could have spent some time in a juvenile facility. However, it was hard for Sean to summon up even a little bit of pity for someone who had made his every moment that past two years into a living hell.

And Sean would be damned if he would get a lecture from Tracker on seriousness. Coming from a guy who just recently moved out of his parent’s house, worked in a bike shop and brought home a different girl every night, Sean wasn’t sure which Cameron brother had the bigger joke of a life.

Tracker seemed to give up on getting any sort of response out of Sean, though, and went back into the kitchen muttering. Sean needed to get out of the sitcom style Thanksgiving scene and retreated to his room. He threw his bag down on his bed and grabbed the basketball by the door, dribbling it one-handed as he sat on the bed thinking.

He was lucky he had gotten off without any sort of punishment, other than a week’s suspension from school and he was thankful for it. Fortunately, the Bishops were too afraid of what would be revealed in court proceedings should Sean admit what had prompted him to hit Tyler so hard he would be semi-disabled the rest of his life to actually follow through with police action. Still, if Sean couldn’t control his anger, he knew it was only a matter of time before someone else would get in his way and maybe next time he would be less lucky. It was hard to find some reason not to be angry with his lot in life, as he looked around his tiny room in a small mobile home with two parents who were ordinarily too drunk to notice his existence. Surrounded by rich kids at their parents beach houses, it was difficult to relate or control his resentment at the hand life had dealt him so far.

Plus he was going to get screwed over anyway. Why not get in a few licks before being brought down?

“Sean?” his mother’s voice called to him from the dining room.

He couldn’t help the feeling of dread that washed over him as he went into the living room and noticed his father sitting at the head of the table, stone sober. Nothing good ever came of his father sober. Nothing good ever came of his father drunk either, but at least that was normal. Sober meant it was something special. Something “important.”

Maybe the Bishops had changed their minds? Was this going to be his last meal before jail food? Sean tried to bite back his growing panic by rationalizing that most meals at a correctional facility would probably be better than his mother’s vodka inspired ‘cuisine’ or his own clumsy attempts to fend for himself when she passed out before he got home. It didn’t much help.

Tracker, Sean and Mr. Cameron helped themselves to large portions of turkey and real mashed potatoes, stuffing, green beans and rolls before Sean’s mother cleared her throat. “Would someone like to say the blessing?” she asked, tentatively.

Sean’s eyebrow shot up and he looked for Tracker for answers. He couldn’t remember the last time they had stopped to bless a meal, holiday or otherwise. He couldn’t actually remember a time when all of his family sat down to eat one, but that too seemed irrelevant. Tracker, however, gave nothing away. He turned to glare once at his father, before volunteering.

“Thank you for each other and this meal,” he started, bowing his head slightly. “Thank you for not letting my dumbass bro-”

“HEY!” Sean objected at the same time his mother made a small clucking noise in the back of the throat.

“Sorry, Ma. Thank you for sparing my younger brother a fate worse than death, deserved or not, and help him to get his anger under control,” Tracker finished, looking not at all sorry. “Amen.”

Sean glared at his brother across the table as his parents whispered their own Amens. Tracker cocked one eyebrow, as if silently challenging Sean to do or say something to prove his prayer was much needed.

Instead, Sean angrily took a bite of stuffing. Tracker smirked and returned to his own meal.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Mr. Cameron mentioned a fluke goal during Opening Night’s Montreal-Toronto game. Soon a simple small talk about hockey had turned into a full fledged discussion on whether Curtis Joseph had the skills and save percentage to carry them through the regular season.

“He’s 33 years old, Dad!” Sean argued vehemently. “He’s got maybe two games left in him!”

“Whether he’s 33 or 43, he had his best goals against average in his entire career last season. That’s not a fluke,” Tracker argued right back. “You see this guy live, Seany and he’s got reflexes like a cat.”

Sean scoffed. “Yeah. Like you would ever invite me to Toronto for anything.”

For a moment, it seemed as if a flash of hurt crossed his older brother’s face, but it was soon replaced by a smirk that very clearly indicated Tracker knew something Sean didn’t. All at once, Sean’s earlier fears and suspicions came crashing back down on him.

“About that, Sean,” Mrs. Cameron started gently. “Your father and I were thinking that may be just what you need.”

“You really want me to visit?” Sean asked Tracker, looking for any trace of hesitation. He wanted to be wanted, not to be a burden on his older brother.

“Not exactly,” Tracker answered, looking to his mother to continue, but she seemed to have lost all power of words.

“Not exactly?” Sean repeated, feeling the earlier suspicion gnaw at his stomach. “What exactly then do you want me to do in Toronto?”

There were a few strong silent moments as everyone tripped over themselves to not answer his question and everyone glanced at each other around the table, looking everywhere but at Sean himself.

Tracker finally sighed, exasperated. “How about you move in? Get away from Wasaga. Get away from trouble.”

“Move in? Away from trouble? You want me to run away?” Sean asked, confused.

“It’s not running away, Sean. It’s starting over,” his mother answered, trying to take one of his hands in hers.

Sean pulled away angrily. “No. No way. I’m not a coward. And I’m not running from this.”

“If you go in a few weeks, it’s the end of the quarter and it will be easy to transition. There’s a school right by Tracker’s place, called Degrassi. It seems quiet and has a good graduation rate,” Mrs. Cameron continued.

Sean couldn’t believe what he was hearing. They had researched schools in the area. How long exactly had his family been planning on betraying him?

“Easy transition? Graduation rate?” Sean sneered, unable to keep his feelings out of his voice. “Tell me, did you rate the local female population on a scale of 1-10? Because I’m going to need at least a 9 to tempt me.” He stood up from the table, pushing his chair back so hard it toppled over behind him. “I’m not leaving!”

“Damn it, I told you he wouldn’t go. Too damn stubborn for his own good,” Mr. Cameron said, pushing his plate away as if in disgust. He turned to Sean angrily. “Who said you had a choice in the matter?”

Suddenly the reality of the entire night set in. This had been his last meal, but not before jail. His parents were sending him away. He had finally pushed them too far and they wanted him gone. Sean knew that they were mostly useless drunks, but they were all that he had.

Sean felt sick inside as he looked from his mom’s anxious face, to Tracker’s guilty countenance and finally to his dad’s, unreadable except for disgust. If they didn’t want him, fine. He wouldn’t stick around where he wasn’t wanted.

“You want me gone? Fine. But screw this end of the quarter shit. I won’t stay another minute in a place I’m not welcome,” Sean seethed, stomping off to his room. He grabbed his duffle bag from the closet and started putting in as many essentials as he could – clothes, his walkman, his lucky jean jacket – trying to ignore the arguing from the other room.

“Well . . . that could’ve gone better,” Mrs. Cameron ventured timidly.

“What did you expect, Ma? Thanks for kicking me out, glad you all agreed before asking my opinion?” Tracker snapped back at her. Sean inwardly made a note to forgive Tracker fairly soon. For one thing they would apparently be living with each other and for another, he sounded as disgusted with the situation as Sean himself.

“I need a drink,” Sean heard his father say. “Talk about a waste of a good meal.”

Sean lay back on his bed – correction, his former bed and stared up at the ceiling. That’s all he would ever be to them, he realized. A waste. A waste of a good meal, a waste of a good education, a waste of a child. A child so horrible they couldn’t handle him without retreating into the hazy world of alcohol and even then needed to ship him off to anyone who would take him.

Well forget them, then. Sean didn’t need them. He didn’t need anyone at all. He would prove it to them and the entire world. He would be better than this.

He stood up and slung his bag over his right shoulder. Striding into the living room, he stopped only long enough to say, “Mail the rest. I’ll be waiting in the car.”

Tracker got in beside him not long after, a plate of leftover turkey and trimmings covered in foil in his hand. “Ma didn’t think you got to eat much.” It was a gesture that at any other time would have touched Sean; it would have given him faith that in spite of everything, his mother did love him in her own way. Now it seemed one more way to mock Sean for believing in any of that to begin with. He was better off now. As long as he was on his own, no one else could betray him again.

The entire ride to Tracker’s apartment was silent, the air tense. Tracker concentrated on driving, glancing every so often at his passenger. Sean for his part stared out the window thinking of what the future might hold, but also what he was leaving behind.

He couldn’t help but think that as imperfect as his parents were, if they didn’t want him, how would he ever find someone who would?

After what seemed like forever, tall buildings appeared on the horizon, their lights twinkling brighter than the few stars in the cloudy sky. A sign appeared on the outskirts of the city. “The city of Toronto wishes you and your family a safe and happy Thanksgiving.”

Sean couldn’t help the audible snicker that escaped him, momentarily drawing Tracker’s attention. As far as Sean Hope Cameron was concerned, he had no family. Happy Thanksgiving, indeed.

Part 2

028. Parents. Parent-Teacher Conference - Comedy - T

Mon, 17 Sep 2007 05:50:53 GMT

Title: Parent-Teacher Conference
Fandom: Degrassi: The Next Generation
Characters: Emma Nelson, Sean Cameron, Manny Santos
Prompt: Parents
Word Count: 2,016
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Emma and Sean's child has a rough first day of school. What will the consequences be for the adults in their lives?
Author's Notes: Happy Birthday Laura - this one was for you.

Emma tapped her fingers against the passenger’s side door, strumming her impatience with every tap. “Will this light ever turn green?” she snapped finally.

Sean sighed, beyond certain that it was a wise idea to take his wife’s keys from her. If she had been behind the wheel he had no doubt they would have run this light already.

“Em, it’s on a timer. Just like the twelve before that,” he mentioned with a smile.

“How can you be so calm? Aren’t you worried about her?” Emma asked, frustrated.

Sean didn’t answer immediately, too busy checking the intersection before accelerating. “Finally!” he heard Emma mutter.

“Emma, they told us it wasn’t an emergency. They told us not to be worried,” Sean finally answered. “I still don’t understand why I had to take off work.”

Emma snorted. “Like you do anything these days. The garage practically runs itself.”

Sean bit back a response, knowing that Emma was too worried to think about what she was saying. If his garage ran smoothly, it was because of the work that he and Jay had put into it since breaking off on their own and not because it was easy.

“Why aren’t you worried?” she asked him suddenly, quietly. Sean looked over, afraid it might be a dangerous quiet. When his wife got quiet during an argument, he usually ended up with an extra two weeks of dish duty.

“Because I know our daughter. And I know she can take care of herself,” Sean shrugged, finally turning into the school parking lot. “Or maybe because I imagine my parents got called down for parent teacher conferences quite often and I don’t want to overreact the way they did.”

Sean pulled into a spot and put the car in park. His wife’s hand found his as he set the parking break and squeezed lightly. He looked up to find her smiling at him.

Slightly unnerved by the honesty he saw in her eyes, he quickly looked away. “Of course, not even I was called into the principal’s office on the first day of school. It was only what? Two hours long?”

He got out of the car before Emma registered what he said, knowing that her worry would have increased double fold. Sure enough, he could hear her shrieking “SEAN HOPE CAMERON!” even after slamming the door behind him.

Sean knew the presence of the many children playing in the schoolyard next to them was the only thing that kept Emma from telling Sean exactly what she thought of his parting remarks.

He had the presence of mind to wait for her at the doorway though, and the two walked into the quiet school building holding hands, a united front as parents. Sean could almost feel Emma tense up as they entered the school office.

“May I help you?” the school secretary barely looked up from her free cell game as the Camerons entered.

“We’re Sean and Emma Nelson,” Emma introduced. “Well, I’m Emma. He’s Sean. I mean . . . we’re Juliet’s parents?”

The woman looked up from her computer to stare at them appraisingly in a way that made Sean more than a little uncomfortable. What exactly had Juliet done? “Ms. Twinning is waiting for you inside,” She finally answered. She nodded her head to a door on the other side of the office.

Emma seemed frozen on the spot, so Sean strode towards the door, tugging gently on their interlocked hands until she followed. He was acutely aware of the secretary’s eyes following their every move and despite what he told his wife it made him nervous for the first time.

Inside the small principal’s office was a tall thin woman. Her dark hair was cut short and her glasses made her eyes hard to see. Her mouth was set in a firm line. Immediately, Sean knew that Ms. Twinning was not someone who was used to being disobeyed. He also had the sinking sensation that he was about to become very familiar with her over the coming year.

He turned his gaze to his daughter. Juliet sat across from her principal, letting her short chubby legs swing back and forth. She was watching her shiny new Mary Janes catch the overhead light as if entranced. Her blonde curls and brown eyes giving her face a cherubic look, particularly as she turned and upon seeing her parents broke into a wide smile that revealed one missing front tooth. “Hi, Mommy! Hi, Daddy!” she called out, seemingly oblivious to the tension emitting from the grownups in the room.

Despite already being told that their child was unhurt, Sean felt Emma relax upon seeing Juliet whole and unnoticeably harmed. It was a momentary relief, however, as she tensed again upon meeting the principal’s glare. “Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, I presume?”

Emma nodded and Sean stuck his hand out for her to shake. Ignoring it, she gestured to the seat next to Juliet. Emma instead picked Juliet up and placed her child on her lap, leaving the other seat free for Sean. He wouldn’t have thought it possible, but the principal’s mouth set into an even thinner line at the action.

“Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, I have been principal at this school for almost ten years. Before that I was a teacher here for twenty. In all my years, I have never met a kindergartner as disruptive as your own,” she began.

Sean could almost see Emma’s motherly instincts start to flare up at her words and he grabbed her fingers tightly to try and keep her from making this worse. “With all due respect to your experience, Ms. Twinning, I find it hard to believe you could pass judgment so quickly. It was only two hours!”

Ms. Twinning just smiled and for some reason that was a scarier sight then her grimace. Sean suddenly felt like he was twelve again, waiting for Mr. Simmonds to expel him from Wasaga Beach high school. “Why don’t I explain the situation, Mrs. Cameron, before you accuse me of a rush to judgment?”

Emma nodded, giving her own icy smile right back. Sean was suddenly both very proud of my wife and impressed she had the foresight to sit Juliet on her lap where her little girl could not see Mommy’s angry face.

“Today at dismissal a child decided to see if Miss Cameron’s hair would spring like a spring,” Ms. Twinning began. “Your daughter did not much care for being touched and pushed him away from her.”

“See, she was provoked! It sounds like you should have the little boy’s parents in here and ask him to keep his hands to himself!” Emma burst.

It was rather rare that Sean was the one to keep his temper and only in situations where Emma’s mama bear tendencies were brought into play. He sensed, however, that this was one of these times. He held up a hand to stop Emma, signaling that he would take it from here.

“Principal Twinning, with all your years of experience, I’m sure that kindergarten hair pulling and shoving is far too minor to attract your personal attention,” he flattered. Years of working with surly auto mechanics and cranky customers had taught him a thing or two about people skills. After all, you attract more flies with honey.

“You are correct, sir,” Ms. Twinning replied, gracing Sean with a genuine smile, no less frightening than her other. “As I was explaining before your wife interrupted, your daughter pushed the boy. A teacher arrived to break up the altercation in time to hear your daughter ask him to keep his hands off her, using a bad word.”

Emma shot an accusatory glance his way. “Juliet has been spending time with some older cousins,” Sean admitted, thinking back to the weekend before when she had spent a Saturday at Jay’s house with his son. “We’ve been having trouble getting her to stop using the second grade insults.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Cameron, I doubt any school child taught your daughter the word she used. I don’t like to get involved with what goes on in our children’s homes, but I really must request you think of your daughter’s best interest. Please try to refrain from using profanity in the home,” Ms. Twinning wasn’t even attempting to include Emma in the conversation any more and Emma was clearly fed up.

“We don’t use profanity, Ms. Twinning, I can assure you,” she answered, adopting Sean’s kiss up tone.

“Oh really? Then where did your daughter ever learn the phrase – and please forgive its crudeness – get your fucking hands off me?”

The rest of the meeting Sean felt passed in a blur. Emma was too mortified to say anything, Sean himself was repeatedly apologizing and the principal didn’t say much. She just smiled smugly at the two of them. As for the little potty mouthed child she continued to swing her feet, twirling her mother’s long blonde hair around each of her chubby little fingers, oblivious to the storm she had caused.

When it finally came time to leave, the Cameron family scurried out of the school as fast as possible; a mixture of embarrassment and relief present in all three members. The ride home was just as tense as the ride to school as Sean could practically feel Emma’s anger towards his best friend grow.

Sure enough, as soon as they pulled into the driveway, Emma had unlatched Juliet’s safety restraints. “Honey, run in and see Auntie Manny. She’s playing with your baby brother, but I know she’s dying to see you, too.”

“What about you, Mommy?” Juliet asked, trying to untangle a stray hair or two from the buckle.

“Mommy and Daddy are going to have a little talk. We’ll be right in,” Emma reassured her daughter, the smile not quite reaching her face.

Emma waited until they had watched Juliet safely enter the house before turning on him. “She’s never going to be alone with him again. And if I hear another filthy word come out of his mouth in either of my children’s presence, then he has his visiting rights revoked.”

“Em, come on, we don’t know for sure it was Jay,” Sean protested but it sounded weak, even to him. Emma knew it and pressed her advantage staring him down. “Fine, it was probably Jay. But even so, he’s my best friend, Em. He co-owns the garage. And he loves those kids as if they were his own. He’d do anything for them.”

“Then he can watch his mouth around them,” Emma responded sharply. “Sean, I will not be called back into that woman’s office. It’s the first day of kindergarten. Juliet will not be a problem child in school and that’s final. He cleans up his act or he stays away. Call him tonight and tell him.”

Emma didn’t leave Sean any time to argue even if he did have one planned as she slammed the car door and stomped toward the house. He had no choice but to follow her reluctantly. The last thing he wanted was for his beautiful, smart, confident daughter to follow in the footsteps of her old man.

He entered the house and heard voices from the kitchen. Juliet was sitting on Manny’s knee telling her how her day had gone. “And then he pulled my hair, Auntie Manny!” Juliet whined.

“Oh, no, cupcake. What did you do?” Manny asked, eyes wide in pretend shock.

“I did just what you told me to.” Juliet replied proudly.

From across the kitchen, Sean heard Emma’s teacup clatter to the ground. “What . . . what you told her to?” Emma asked, shakily.

“Yup,” Juliet repeated proudly. “Auntie Manny told me if any boys pushed me around to shove them and tell them to keep their fucking hands to themselves.”

Manny to her credit had the grace to look absolutely mortified. Emma however, was red faced with embarrassment. Sean tried hard not to laugh as he stared at his wife. “Still want me to call Jay?”

076. Who? - An Unwelcome Admirer

Sun, 12 Nov 2006 09:02:19 GMT

Title: An Unwelcome Admirer
Fandom: Degrassi: The Next Generation
Characters: Emma Nelson, Sean Cameron, Manny Santos, Peter Stone, Jay Hogart, Toby Isaacs, Liberty Van Zandt
Prompt: Who?
Word Count: 7,732
Rating: PG
Summary: Emma's receiving mysterious roses from a mysterious admirer. But if they are not from Sean then who is responsible for them?
Author's Notes: Okay so maybe I cheated? And this is really a Halloween story. But if you won't tell I won't? And it's too long for LJ - so linkage below.

An Unwelcome Admirer

071. Broken.

Sun, 12 Nov 2006 08:27:40 GMT

Title: Flinch
Fandom: Degrassi: The Next Generation
Characters: Emma Nelson, Sean Cameron, Manny Santos, Peter Stone
Prompt: Broken
Word Count: 2,370
Rating: PG
Summary: Sean must come to terms with the consequences of his past with Emma.
Author's Notes: I wanted one story on this table that wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. And I needed to get out the itch from that one slight movement in 602.

Sean felt the difference as the last bits of consciousness drifted from the girl in his arms and sleep overtook her. She wasn’t heavy under any circumstance, but her weight shifted ever so slightly as she lost the battle to keep her eyes awake. Sean couldn’t blame her much. Sure, Emma was passionate about the environment, but a movie consisting almost entirely of a slide show and a wooden former U.S. Vice President was enough to make anyone fall under Mr. Sandman’s spell.

Sean was half tempted to join her, but instead took this opportunity to watch her features completely uninterrupted. It wasn’t often that he could do so without her growing self-conscious and blushing or turning away with a “Sean!” or a playful push to his shoulder. He loved getting a chance to watch her unobserved and as she slept her delicate features were completely open and vulnerable, in a way they never were in the waking hours.

He knew the guard that Emma couldn’t let down while awake was partially his fault and he couldn’t help but wish he could take back everything he had done to hurt her; to allow her to go back to the wide-eyed, passionate innocent he had first fallen in love with. He loved the complex grown up Emma in his arms no less fiercely, but he couldn’t help but want to protect her from everything, including himself.

He heard a key turn in the lock in the entryway behind him and tried to shift enough to see who was there without waking Emma. He caught a glimpse of Manny’s dark hair and heard her throw her purse on the stairs, kicking her shoes off as she entered the living room.

Sean moved to get up and quiet her, but it was too late. “EMMA! I’m ho-ome!” Manny called as she moved into the darkened living room.

“Manny,” he hissed, trying to keep his voice low. “Emma’s sleeping!”

Emma stirred from his arms, lifting her head slightly dazed. “Manny? How was your date?”

“Fan-frickin-tastic! You know, I don’t know why I didn’t dump Craig months ago and enjoy the parade of single losers earlier in my high school life?” Manny’s gestures were overly dramatic and as she drew closer to the couch, the smell of beer on her breath was nearly overpowering.

Emma gave Sean a small apologetic look as she lifted herself away from him and took her best friend by the arm, leading her to the kitchen. “Let’s get you a nice glass of water, Miss Grand Marshal,” he heard Emma say.

Sean turned off the now forgotten DVD and the television, laying back on the couch and closing his eyes. He had wanted to give Emma one night where she didn’t have to take care of anyone else. She had been doing too much of it lately and he wanted this to be one night where someone took care of her for a change. Low key, low stress, no obligations. Until Manny’s latest blind date had brought her home wasted.

Even now, Manny seemed to have issues with her volume control. “You and Sean looked fairly cozy in there,” she was remarking to Emma.

Sean smiled as he heard Emma’s soft voice reply, even if he couldn’t hear her words. Cozy was exactly what he was aiming for. And what they could go back to once Santos had passed out in her bed.

“So he was okay with the whole thing this afternoon? And Peter?” She asked loudly.

Sean sat up at Manny’s words. What exactly was she referring to? Fighting down feelings of guilt, he walked over to the doorway to eavesdrop. “Shhhh. He doesn’t know. And he doesn’t need to know, not ever,” Emma was whispering.

“Em . . . Em . . . Em. It wasn’t your fault. You have no reason to hide anything,” Manny said. “Peter practically forced you-”

Manny’s voice abruptly stopped, a slightly muffled sound replacing it. “Manny, this isn’t your decision, it’s mine. And when I remove my hand we are going to take this glass of water and go downstairs. You will change into pajamas, drink the glass of water and go to sleep and I am going to continue to cuddle with my boyfriend without worrying or upsetting him. Do you understand?”

Manny must have nodded because no further words were spoken and the only sounds were those of footsteps retreating downstairs.

Sean tried not to let himself dwell on what he had just heard. If it was really important Emma would tell him. There wasn’t anything she couldn’t tell him. If she had managed to tell him about Jay and the ravine . . . only she hadn’t. Jay had. And she had just explained afterwards. But if they had survived that revelation, they could survive anything.

Unless she didn’t trust him.

The thought made him sit down on the couch, all energy depleted. For some reason changing Manny into pajamas was taking an awful long time, leaving Sean far too much time alone with his thoughts as he sat waiting. Emma claimed to trust him. And many of her actions seemed to reinforce that statement. After all, hadn’t she just fallen asleep in his arms? Emma didn’t fall asleep in public. She couldn’t on bus rides or car rides or at the beach. Said she felt too vulnerable while asleep to let others see her that way.

But what exactly had happened?

It wasn’t your fault. Peter practically forced you-.

Sean stood up and paced back and forth trying not to imagine the various ways that sentence could end.

Emma finally emerged through the swinging door, a glass of water in her hand. “Sorry about that,” she shrugged setting down the glass. “Now where were we?”

‘Don’t say anything, Sean,’ a voice cautioned him from somewhere inside. ‘Let her tell you when she’s ready.’

Emma slid her hands up either side of his chest to wrap around his neck and Sean just snapped. He pulled her hands away from him stepping back angrily.

“Anything you want to tell me, Em?” he asked, surprised at how bitter at his voice came out.

Emma’s face fell as she wrapped her arms around herself and he kicked himself for not being able to stay silent. “You heard?” she asked softly, collapsing into the couch behind her.

“Not nearly enough, it sounds like. So should I go downstairs and ask Manny or does my girlfriend think she can trust me enough to tell the truth?” Once he started, Sean couldn’t seem to control the words that spilled from within him and the immediate regret that filled him couldn’t take any of it back. With each word he could see Emma retreat further into herself and yet he couldn’t stop.

“I do trust you,” she replied, once again attempting to grab his hand. “I just . . . I didn’t . . . I didn’t want you to be angry,” she finished quietly.

“Too late,” Sean replied just as softly.

He thought for a minute she’d still refuse, but then her voice started, low and monotone. “This kid stopped me in the hallway after school. Said he had a message from my boyfriend to meet him in the shop for a surprise,” Emma recited, staring down at her fidgeting fingers.

“I didn’t . . .” Sean started, but Emma interrupted.

“I know. When I got into the shop, it was empty and dark. I called out for you and the door shut behind me,” Emma shivered slightly and Sean began to think perhaps he should have listened to that voice inside his head. “I felt someone’s arms around me and someone’s lips on mine, but it wasn’t you. I knew it wasn’t right away. He didn’t smell right. Or feel right.”

“Em,” Sean started, but she just kept going.

“I stepped on his foot. Hard. I was wearing Manny’s purple boots; the ones I keep stealing? He let go of me and I rushed to the door. I turned on the light before I left. It was Peter. He said that he thought if I just kissed him one more time I would know I had made a mistake. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to,” Emma finished, looking up into Sean’s eyes so full of remorse for something that wasn’t at all her fault that his heart broke a little.

No, the blame for this lay with him for forcing her to tell and for Peter Stone for existing. “I’ll kill him,” he growled, moving towards the door.

“No!” Emma cried, clutching at his elbow.

Sean turned toward her and she flinched back away from him. Immediately all anger drained out of him. “Em,” he said softly, reaching for a bang that had fallen into her eyes. She tensed visibly, but didn’t move away this time, relaxing only after he had moved it behind her ear and removed his hand.

“You’re afraid of me,” he said, moving back towards the doorway, slightly shocked.

“I’m afraid for you! This is why I didn’t want to tell you! Peter probably did this on purpose to get to you! If you go after Peter, he’ll find a way to put you right back in jail and I can’t lose you again!” Despite her vehement arguments, Emma didn’t follow after him this time, though, he noted with sadness.

“That’s not what I meant. Just now, when I turned,” Sean tried to control his voice from shaking. “You moved away from me. You’re afraid of me, Em.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Emma answered, looking honestly bewildered. “I didn’t mean to do anything.”

“I know and that just makes it worse,” Sean rationalized. Images flashed before him and he realized that this wasn’t an isolated incident. “It’s not the first time, either. When I was suspended from Degrassi on the steps, you backed away from me. When I confronted you about Jay, you took a step back. You don’t mean to be, but you’re afraid of me, Em.”

“You’re being silly,” Emma said, approaching him and taking his hands in hers. “I love you. And I trust you.”

“But you’re afraid of me,” he repeated pulling away from her. “Maybe not all the time, but sometimes. When I’m upset?”

“Sean,” Emma sighed, sounding frustrated. “I don’t know what to say? You can be a little scary when you’re angry, yes. But I know you wouldn’t ever hurt me.”

“Because I’ve done a bang up job of proving that to you?” Sean said, flashing back to all the times he had hurt her emotionally, sometimes even intentionally to get back at her for being so perfect, not to mention the physical shove that had led to their first breakup.

“Never again. You promised.” Emma made it sound as if it was easy. She still looked confused and close to tears as he continued to move away from her.

“Yeah, well, if only it were that simple,” Sean grabbed his coat and yanked the door open. “Don’t wait up for me.”

He ignored her calls of protest and slammed the door shut, bounding down the stairs in two steps. Chalk it up to one more time that he would hurt her. One more broken promise.

He only had himself to blame. Because of his anger management issues, he had deafened Tyler in Wasaga, started countless fights, shoved Emma in Grade 7 part deux and almost killed someone in an illegal street race. He shouldn’t be surprised that Emma was afraid of him when he was angry; he should be worried for her sanity if she wasn’t. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

That wasn’t entirely true, though, all things considered. If he thought about it more, he knew it wasn’t entirely his fault. After all, Emma used to have no quandaries standing up to him. Their second break up, she had stared him down as he slammed shut the door right next to her and not moved a muscle in response. Rick had changed her and despite her best efforts she couldn’t go back.

However, what scared him most of all as he walked briskly down the street, with no real destination, was that she may be right. He lost control when it came to Emma, more so than at any other time in his life or with any other person. She just took everything he was and made him more. His parents were alcoholics and although he hadn’t touched a drink since moving back to Wasaga, it was always in the corners of his mind that he could turn into them. And if that happened and Emma was there, who was to say that he would always be able to stop himself?

Maybe it wasn’t Emma who needed to get over her fears so much as he needed to get over his own?

He eventually found himself back at the Nelson-Simpson residence, standing in the front walk, staring at the door. She was afraid of him at times. He was afraid of himself at times. Nothing could change that. And so he was faced with a choice. If he stayed he would have to get over his fear that someday he could lose control entirely and potentially hurt Emma, like he had tonight or even worse. But if he left, there was no potential about it. He would hurt her and break his promise far worse than he had already.

He crept back inside the house, putting his coat back on the hanger softly. Emma was curled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped tightly around her. She had obviously tried to wait up for him, but sleep had overtaken her. As he knelt next to her, he could see the tear tracks down her cheeks where she had obviously cried herself to sleep. Her sleeping features which only hours ago had seemed so calm, now were twisted in pain. He had done that. Sean swallowed back the guilt and moved his thumb over her cheek, wiping away the tear stains. He was unable to stop his own tears as his skin touched hers and, even in her sleep, she flinched.

086. Choices. - Stay Gone

Sun, 12 Nov 2006 07:46:57 GMT

Title: Stay Gone
Fandom: Degrassi
Characters: Emma Nelson/Sean Cameron
Prompt: Endings
Word Count: 1,322
Rating: PG
Summary: Emma realizes she needs to put the past behind her and move on.
Author's Notes: Something I wrote a while ago. I realize songfictions are a fool's errand as the reader may not know the song or have the same feelings associated, but sometimes you hear something and can't help yourself.

I do not own Degrassi or “Stay Gone” by Jimmy Wayne. If you haven’t heard this song, buy it, get it, download it, listen to it immediately. Unless you’re depressed, in which case don’t listen to it because it’s too sad for words.

Emma pressed the print key with a bit of flair as she stared at the words on the screen. Her application to University was finally finished. There was a huge feeling of closure and satisfaction along with the relief of being finally done. She had come a long way from the mess that she had been left with after the tragedy with Rick and in a few short months she would be leaving Degrassi forever. Not that it hadn’t had its good points over the years. And this year was looking to be the best yet. Manny and her had reconnected and were planning on making senior year a year to remember. JT had finally gotten over his obsession with the grade ahead of them, mostly because they had graduated and was acting himself again. Toby, too, had finally healed enough to get back to normal. The fab four was once again in place.

I've found peace of mind; I'm feeling good again

I'm on the other side, back among the living

Ain't a cloud in the sky

All my tears have been cried

And I can finally say

Suddenly the phone next to her rang. “Hello?” she answered cheerfully.

“Emma,” a voice on the other side said.

Immediately her heart started beating faster and she shivered involuntarily. “Sean?”

“Thank God you still have the same number,” he continued, oblivious to the effect he was having on her. “Listen, I know it’s been a while.”

“Haven’t seen you in two years, haven’t talked in forever. Yeah, ‘a while’ just about covers it,” Emma remarked sarcasm dripping.

“Listen, I’m going to be in TO this weekend. Just a quick trip, but I’d like to see you,” he said. “I miss you.”

Baby baby stay

Stay right where you are

I like it this way

It's good for my heart

Emma felt her stomach twist. “Sean . . . I don’t know . . .”

“Don’t say ‘no’ yet, okay. Listen I’ll call you when I’m up there, if you’re busy, well, then . . . I tried. But I want – I need to see you, Em,” he begged.

She wanted to shout ‘NO!’ and ‘YES!’ simultaneously, but forced a neutral “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I needed to hear. Here’s my number.” Emma wrote the digits on the back of a paper, hands trembling slightly. “Take care, Emma,” and with a click he had disappeared again.

Emma stared at the phone her emotions and thoughts awash with memories of him. She knew Ellie was out of the picture, but still – it had been two years. She didn’t even know why he wanted to see her. He could be returning an old pair of her jeans or something. ‘How would he have gotten your pants, Emma?’ she reminded herself. Still, it was nothing to get worked up over. So why couldn’t she control her feelings all of a sudden?

I haven't felt like this

In God knows how long

I know everything's gonna be okay

If you just stay gone

‘Dammit, Sean,’ she thought. ‘How could you do this to me now?’ Today was all about celebrating new beginnings, a start at University, maybe even leaving Toronto. Her life was good now. Her life was uncomplicated now. Granted, she hadn’t had a serious boyfriend since Sean Hope Cameron, but Emma liked to think that had more to do with the guy pool at Degrassi than anything else. ‘I mean, honestly, who could I hook up with who hasn’t dated one of my best friends?’ Emma came up with only two names and both were ridiculous: Jimmy Brooks or Jay Hogart.

Emma knew that a part of her still loved Sean and always would. She knew him better than his own parents, literally, and definitely had known him better than Ellie ever had. And he knew things about her, too, that were secret, sacred. Sometimes Emma felt like he could read her mind.

I still love you and I will forever

We can't hide the truth

We know each other better

But Emma had traveled down this road before, twice in fact. How long had it taken him to work up the courage to ask her out? And then she had misinterpreted it and he thought she hated him. When they finally got on the same page, their first date had still been a complete disaster.

How many times had she reassured that she liked him before he would accept it?

But physical violence had been the last straw for her that first time. And it had hurt. Working with him to save Craig, the prank call, everything hurt.

But that hurt was like a paper cut compared to the way he had torn her heart out the second time. Emma’s family, her world, had been falling apart. All she had was Sean and he gave up on her. Ditched her, spat at her, made out with his new girlfriend in front of her, stolen from her sick father, the list went on and on.

Even when they weren’t together, seeing him with Ellie, knowing she had no one to blame for their detention hook-up but her own deranged revenge scheme, it was beyond brutal.

When we try to make it work

We both end up hurt

It ain't supposed to be that way

The final straw had been running away to Wasaga Beach. Emma understood why he had. If she could have run away after everything that had happened with Rick, she would have in a heartbeat. She would have run as far and as fast as possible without a glance, just like Sean had. But it had hurt.

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, her mother always said. If that was true, Emma could bend steel after everything that had happened. But she had made it through. And she had done so alone.

Baby baby stay

Stay right where you are

I like it this way

It's good for my heart

If Sean came back, it would only reopen old wounds that Emma had spent too many tears and too much time healing. She couldn’t, she wouldn’t, go through that again.

She looked at the paper with the phone number he had given her. Flipping it over, she realized she had written on the back of her application. There it was then. Her choice.

I haven't felt like this

In God knows how long

I know everything's gonna be okay

If you just stay gone

Even if he did move back to Toronto, even in the best case scenario, with apologies on both sides and a reunion scene . . .

The thought of Sean’s kisses almost made Emma rethink her decision, but she knew what she had to do. Even if everything worked out for a while, eventually Sean’s demons, his self-doubt, his feelings of inadequacy, his anger would push them apart again. If not that, then Emma would take him for granted again or try to fit him into her world instead of accepting him as he was. In the end, it would end, as it always did. Except Emma didn’t know if she was strong enough to put herself back together again.

Emma knew that it wasn’t a chance she was willing to take. No matter how much she loved him.

When we try to make it work

We both end up hurt

Love ain't supposed to be that way

Tears already pricking the corners of her eyes, she picked up the phone and dialed.

“Sean? It’s Emma. We need to talk . . .”

So baby baby stay

Stay right where you are

I like it this way

It's good for my heart

I haven't felt like this

In ooh in God knows how long

I know everything's gonna be okay

If you just stay gone

I know everything's gonna be okay

If you just stay gone

022. Enemies. Worst Enemy

Sun, 05 Nov 2006 18:33:26 GMT

Title: Worst Enemy
Fandom: Degrassi
Characters: Emma Nelson, Ellie Nash, Sean Cameron, Jay Hogart, Craig Manning (briefly)
Prompt: Enemies
Word Count: 1,339
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Emma and Sean have had to prove many people wrong to be together. But can they get over their own insecurities?
Author's Notes: I had an idea . . . and I wrote it -- I just don't know that this captured it or if the idea was even worth capturing or just kind of cheesy. Based on the idea that Emma and Sean find themselves in opposite situations regarding exes and what that may mean? Idk. Read. Let me know if you like.

Ellie Nash was not her enemy. As a point in fact, she wasn’t even her rival and never had been. Emma had already moved onto Chris by the time Sean and Ellie started dating and when Sean returned from his year in Wasaga, he had made it clear that he had returned for Emma. So why couldn’t Emma control the jealousy that flared each time she saw the all too pretty redhead in the same room as her boyfriend?

Maybe because of the way Sean and Ellie fell into an easy conversation in a way that Emma and he never could in the off-again parts of their relationship, Emma mused as she watched them talk from across the party. With Emma and Sean it was always fire and passion – whether it was love or hate depending on the time of the year, usually, but nothing was ever calm or easy.

Maybe it was because Sean and Ellie were similar in a way that Emma couldn’t change and wouldn’t want to if she could. Emma’s childhood without a father wasn’t perfect, but now with Snake in the picture her home life had become fairly idealized. Either situation couldn't compare to what Ellie and Sean had dealt with in their younger years.

But if Emma admitted the truth to herself, it was mostly because Sean and Ellie had shared a level of intimacy that she was still too afraid to commit herself to. They had lived together and shared everything. Emma and Sean . . . well, Emma wanted to sleep with Sean, but for some reason found herself pulling away every time they ventured close to that level of intimacy.

Craig approached Sean and Ellie, pulling Sean away into the kitchen leaving the redhead alone. Emma knew it would be a mistake, but couldn’t help walking over and taking the stool that Sean had vacated. She needed to know how she could get over this little roadblock and enemy or not, Ellie may be the only one that understood.

“So umm, great party, eh?” Emma asked, mentally kicking her own lameness even as the words came out.

Ellie looked over at Emma, surprise evident on her features. “Well, Craig has always known how to throw a party.”

Emma nodded, even though she couldn’t for the life of her remember Craig ever throwing a memorable party before now. “Ellie?” she asked, turning toward the other girl earnestly, deciding she had to say something now before she lost all courage. “I need your help.”

Ellie still looked confused, but turned toward Emma, smiling slightly. “Sure, what can I do to help you?” she asked.

Emma swallowed, trying not to admit she had secretly been hoping Ellie would refuse. “Well, I’m dating Sean . . .” Emma started, not quite sure how best to broach the subject.

Ellie put her hand on Emma’s elbow, halting her. “Look, if you’re worried that I’m still interested, don’t be. I moved on a long time ago. You have nothing to worry about here. I’m not your enemy, Emma.” Ellie smiled again and started to move away.

Emma clutched at the hand that left her elbow, making Ellie turn to face her. She gulped nervously. “It’s not that. See, Sean and I are starting to ummm, get closer? And I just . . . wanted to talk to someone who knows him . . . that way. I thought you might help me? With that part. Manny's great, but I don't know that I can ask her about this. We're kind of different, and I just want everything to be perfect.” Emma looked down at her hands which were twisting themselves into knots, trying to control the blush that was covering her from head to toe.

“Emma.” She looked up at the sound of her name to see Ellie’s bewildered face. “I don’t know what Sean told you . . .”

“He didn’t tell me anything,” Emma interrupted quickly. “This was all me. I mean, I know I must sound nuts; it’s just . . . I’ve never . . . you know . . . and I know that he has . . . I mean, he’s had to have you know? And I don’t want to . . . look like an idiot.” ‘Kind of like I do now,’ Emma added silently.

“Emma,” Ellie said again, this time her voice more gentle, as if she were speaking to a child. “You really should talk to Sean about this. I can tell you this much. Sean and I never did what you seem to think we did.”

“What?” Emma couldn’t help the small exclamation that slipped out. “You never?”

Ellie shook her head quickly. “Nope, never. I wasn’t ready and he loved me too much to pressure me. Our relationship was more important than sex, you know?” She reached over and patted Emma’s shoulder. “Talk to Sean, okay? He’s a great guy.”

As Emma watched Ellie walk away, her words were stuck on an instant replay in her mind. Our relationship was more important then sex. He loved me too much to pressure me.

Ellie Nash wasn’t her enemy. And she hadn’t ever slept with Sean. The truth was something much worse.

* * *

Sean Cameron knew Jay Hogart wasn’t his enemy. In reality, he probably was the closest thing to a best friend he’d ever have. Just his luck, he figured as he shoved Jay into the alley wall.

“What did you do to her exactly?” Sean seethed. He wasn’t normally the jealous type. Of course, with biceps like his and the piercing blue eyes to match, he generally didn’t have much to worry about. He hadn’t even been with Emma or even in the same town at the time everything had happened. Neither fact made him feel less jealous or less angry at the sorry excuse for a human he had pinned against the brick.

“I didn’t do anything she didn’t want to do,” Jay answered cryptically, smirking despite the fact that Sean could and very easily would if provoked beat the living daylights out of him.

“Bullshit. Was she drunk? Were you?” Sean continued interrogating him, trying to escape what he knew to be true. His best friend and his ex/current girlfriend had meant something more than just friends to each other when he had walked out on them.

“Look, man, it wasn’t like that. Calm down, you weren’t even dating the tree hugger then,” Jay was fairly loyal, but Sean could see in his eyes, he wouldn’t stand for too much more of this without defending himself.

“Tell me, then, what was it like? Did you fall in love with her or something? Did she fall for you?” Sean asked, backing off slightly, afraid to hear his worst fears confirmed, but needing to know none-the-less.

Jay brushed himself off as he stared at Sean. “Love?” he scoffed. “Emma’s only ever done that mushy shit for you, but you weren’t around and I was. It was sex, man. Just sex.”

Sean closed his eyes. Since Manny had accidentally slipped about Emma and Jay’s hook up he had imagined the details several times a minute, but in none of them were they just fuck buddies. Secret lovers, drawn together by mutual rejection or forbidden attraction, sure, but this . . .

You weren’t around and I was. It was sex. Just sex.

Jay Hogart wasn’t his enemy. But he sure as hell wasn’t his friend. Emma had never loved Jay. But somehow that didn’t comfort Sean, for the truth was something much worse.

* * *

Sean kissed Emma softly as they lay back into the bed. He pulled apart, just long to look her in the eye.

"Are you sure you're ready?" he asked trying to block out Jay's voice that echoed from his head. It was sex. Just sex. Maybe that was true for Emma and Jay, but this time, this experience was about something much more than just sex for Sean and he hoped for Emma, too.

Emma nodded, trying not to dwell on Ellie's words. Our relationship was more important then sex. Their relationship was just as important as his was with Ellie, she was confident. And taking it to the next level wasn't about proving that, but rather a natural next step.

As the two resumed their attentions to one another, all voices and thoughts left their minds, each trying to overcome their own worst enemy. Themselves.

Because I have nothing better to do cough

Thu, 02 Nov 2006 06:08:45 GMT

And because Eva talked me into it (you jump, I jump, Jack, eh?) I have decided to embark on fanfic100

Degrassi: The Next Generation - 100 Eman stories coming your way . . . eventually.

7/100

001.	Beginnings.	002.	Middles.	003.	Ends.	004.	Insides.	005.	Outsides.
006.	Hours.	007.	Days.	008.	Weeks.	009.	Months.	010.	Years.
011.	Red.	012.	Orange.	013.	Yellow.	014.	Green.	015.	Blue.
016.	Purple.	017.	Brown.	018.	Black.	019.	White.	020.	Colourless.
021.	Friends.	022.	Enemies.	023.	Lovers.	024.	Family.	025.	Strangers.
026.	Teammates.	027.	Parents.	028.	Children.	029.	Birth.	030.	Death.
031.	Sunrise.	032.	Sunset.	033.	Too Much.	034.	Not Enough.	035.	Sixth Sense.
036.	Smell.	037.	Sound.	038.	Touch.	039.	Taste.	040.	Sight.
041.	Shapes.	042.	Triangle.	043.	Square.	044.	Circle.	045.	Moon.
046.	Star.	047.	Heart.	048.	Diamond.	049.	Club.	050.	Spade.
051.	Water.	052.	Fire.	053.	Earth.	054.	Air.	055.	Spirit.
056.	Breakfast.	057.	Lunch.	058.	Dinner.	059.	Food.	060.	Drink.
061.	Winter.	062.	Spring.	063.	Summer.	064.	Fall.	065.	Passing.
066.	Rain.	067.	Snow.	068.	Lightening.	069.	Thunder.	070.	Storm.
071.	Broken.	072.	Fixed.	073.	Light.	074.	Dark.	075.	Shade.
076.	Who?	077.	What?	078.	Where?	079.	When?	080.	Why?
081.	How?	082.	If.	083.	And.	084.	He.	085.	She.
086.	Choices.	087.	Life.	088.	School.	089.	Work.	090.	Home.
091.	Birthday.	092.	Christmas.	093.	Thanksgiving.	094.	Independence.	095.	New Year.
096.	Writer‘s Choice.	097.	Writer‘s Choice.	098.	Writer‘s Choice.	099.	Writer‘s Choice.	100.	Writer‘s Choice.

Let's see how this goes, eh?

Loosen Up

Sat, 28 Oct 2006 04:03:24 GMT

Title:Loosen Up
Fandom: Degrassi
Characters: Emma, Sean
Prompt: Loose
Word Count: 710
Genre: Romance
Rating: T/PG-13
Summary: A private dance lesson as Emma tries to get Sean to "loosen up."
Author's Notes: I swear, right now I could make any word into Sean/Emma fluff. Dubious quality, but fun none the less.

Emma bit back a giggle as she watched her boyfriend attempt to groove to the music on the radio. “Nope, still no deal. I have to finish this book by the end of the weekend if I’m ever going to pass this class. Spending tonight at some lame house party just won’t cut it.”

“Come on, Em, loosen up!” Sean said, moving towards her in what she could only assume he thought was a sexy way. He looked like a cross between an ostrich and a giraffe – all stiff and angled.

“Loosen up?” she asked, in slight disbelief. “Honestly, Sean, if you ever want me to be seen in public with you, you’re the one who’s going to need to loosen up a bit.”

“What do you mean by that?” Sean asked, mercifully ceasing his gyrations, his words full of fake outrage.

Emma sighed, pulling the elastic off of her wrist and using it to pull back her long blond hair. She strode over to the radio and switched it from radio to CD. In moments, the music pouring from the speakers was soft and smooth. Emma plodded over to where Sean stood and turned around in front of him so her back was to his front, trying to contain her annoyance.

“Here,” she said, taking his left hand her own. “Put this hand here,” she placed his palm on her left hip. “And this hand here.” She repeated the move with his right hand.

Sean inched his left hand up so that it was just brushing over her breast. “Here?” he asked, whispering in her ear.

Emma tossed her head, guaranteeing her ponytail smacked him in the fact as she replaced his hand. Didn’t he realize she had work to do? “Then, you just . . . move.” She punctuated her sentence by moving her hips back and forth slowly, to the beat of the music. Emma’s entire form became this fluid, graceful structure that merely moved and rippled to the music’s vibrations in a way that Sean more than appreciated.

He used his hands to pull her hips up against his own and tried to flow with her. Emma thought it may have been a good idea, but in the end she found him bouncing against her in a most unsexy way.

“Sean,” Emma giggled, reaching to take his hands with her own and raising them above her head in the air. He may be gifted with his hands under an engine, but some days it seemed to Emma that was about the only place.

It didn’t help much. Emma was forced to admit that the truth was fairly simple. Sean Cameron could not dance.

Emma tried pushing against him slightly to see if the pressure would help. However, the reaction she got was not one she had expected. “Sean?” She turned surprised and he took advantage to quickly catch her in a kiss. All the stiffness left his frame as she melted against him and into his kiss. Her hands reached up to tangle in his hair while his roamed up and down her sides, awkwardness forgotten. Their bodies melded in a different sort of dance, as all awareness of the outside world slipped away.

Until the CD skipped.

The repetitive notes jarred Emma out of the modified dance lesson and she pulled back, slightly disoriented. She stumbled over to the boom box and turned it off, glancing back at Sean. He stood right where she had left him, disappointment evident on his features.

“Right. Ummm. I have to uh – get something . . . upstairs,” she said, moving towards the staircase quickly, trying not to think about what would have happened if her parents had chosen to walk in a few moments prior. She had made it halfway up the stairs before a thought hit her. She turned around, watching Sean as he perched on the end of her bed. “You know, if you weren’t so unbelievably bad, I’d be beginning to think you do this on purpose.”

Sean waited until he heard Emma run the cold water upstairs before he lay back on her bed staring at the ceiling. Idly, he wondered just how long he could continue to pretend he didn’t know how to dance.

003. Ends. So the ends justify the means?

Thu, 26 Oct 2006 06:17:18 GMT

Title:The Ends Justify the Means
Fandom: Degrassi
Characters: Emma, Sean, Manny (briefly)
Prompt: Ends
Word Count: 918
Genre: Romance
Rating: Mature? Teen? Idk, steamier than I usually do.
Summary: A homework session turned debate turns steamy.
Author's Notes: Let's do this, eh? If we can do the 10 one, the 100 is next, Miss Eva.

“So you’re telling me you believe the end justifies the means?” Emma pulled angrily out of Sean’s arm and glared back at him with the ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ look he was convinced she had perfected.

“Em, come on!” Sean just sighed exasperated, sitting up and straightening the book she had jostled in her speed to get away from him. “I’m just saying maybe this Prince guy had the right idea – I mean, his little city-thing was pretty well run, right? I mean, maybe today’s Toronto could do with a little less poverty.”

“First of all, his name is Machiavelli. The Prince is just his most famous work, not like the 80’s performing artist. Second, it wasn’t a city thing it was a glorified dictatorship. Third,” Emma seemed to run out of steam as she stared at Sean’s bemused expression. She looked beyond cute when she was passionate about something or other and he half wondered if he started arguments just to watch the way her eyes lit up mid argument and the blush that crept up on her cheeks. “Third, you’re wrong!” she finished, no less vehemently, sitting on the edge of the couch.

“I’m wrong?” he laughed. “What’s so bad about the good of the many outweighing the needs of a few? Collateral damage and all that.”

“Collateral damage?” Emma snorted, crossing her arms against her chest. “That’s the last time I let you trick me into watching a Schwarzenegger movie!”

“What? I said I wanted to see that movie with that U.S. politician and you agreed!” Sean held up his hands in the universal gesture of innocence. “It’s not my fault you thought I meant it was that global warming snore fest.”

“Let me guess? The ends justified the means?” Emma asked raising one eyebrow at him.

“Exactly. See, I knew an example would present itself,” Sean stretched his legs out onto the coffee table, placing his hands behind his head as if proud of himself.

Emma looked at him long and hard as if considering something, before she lowered her crossed arms and leaned in close. “Maybe, you’re on to something.”

Sean sat up quickly. Emma never gave up that easily. “What are you talking about?”

Emma slowly moved towards Sean on the couch, each move deliberate, until she had practically crawled into his lap. “Just . . . maybe you’re right,” she said pushing a lock of his long wavy hair behind his ear, before capturing his lips in a quick kiss.

She didn’t stop there, kissing and sucking and occasionally even nipping her way down his neck until she reached the boundary of his shirt. Her fingers tiptoed down to the bottom of the material and started pulling it over his head, which he was more than happy to help her with, until it lay forgotten on the floor.

“I mean,” she whispered between kisses, her warm breath tickling his cool skin. “After all . . . I could . . . get you . . . to agree . . . to . . . just . . . about . . . anything . . . right now.”

Sean knew she was speaking but couldn’t focus on the words, too caught up in the sensations. Emma was usually reserved, but tonight, she seemed to have no problems taking the initiative and it was literally taking his breath away.

She started to slip her fingers under the waistband of his jeans, dangerously close to some very sensitive parts of his body when she abruptly stood, dusted herself off and walked towards the kitchen.

“Emma!” Sean’s breathing was ragged, but the disappointment and anger was still more than evident in that one word.

“Hmmm?” she asked innocently, turning in the doorway as if she hadn’t just mauled him during a homework session in her parents’ living room.

“What are you doing?” he asked, trying to calm his nerves and other parts.

“I was going to something to drink before finishing history – you want something?” She was so calm and composed, while he was half dressed and gaping.

“I want you to come here and finish what you started,” he practically growled.

“And what would you do for me, if I come over and do that for you? Would you agree to watch the ‘global warming snorefest’? Would you take me to the dance this Friday at school? Would you sign up for some summer courses to try and make University?”

Sean crossed the room in two bounds and pushing her against the door jam gave her a long, searing kiss, making sure she felt just how much he wanted to continue their activities on the couch. “Do you have to ask? I’ll do anything you want.”

To her credit, Emma blushed slightly and looked more than a little flustered. “Too bad I don’t believe that the ends justify the means, eh?” She pushed him away and walked into the kitchen, throwing a last parting shot over her shoulder. “Consider it . . . collateral damage.”

Sean went over to the couch and retrieved his shirt angrily pulling it over his head and flopping onto the couch. His mood was not improved by the sound of the key turning in the door behind him and Manny’s giggles following the open door.

“What’s your problem?” Manny asked, taking in his disheveled appearance and discarded history books.

“Machivelli,” Sean grumbled, silently vowing not to argue with Emma over homework again. Winning just wasn’t worth it.

Prompt Table

Thu, 26 Oct 2006 06:16:11 GMT

Look what I can do! *giggles*

001.	Noisy	002.	Potent	003.	Loose	004.	Bond	005.	Portrait
006.	Paisley	007.	Machiavellian	008.	Scandal	009.	Return	010.	Flounce

imnotawriteryet

Thanksgiving part 1/5

028. Parents. Parent-Teacher Conference - Comedy - T

076. Who? - An Unwelcome Admirer

071. Broken.

086. Choices. - Stay Gone

022. Enemies. Worst Enemy

Because I have nothing better to do *cough*

Loosen Up

003. Ends. So the ends justify the means?

Prompt Table

Because I have nothing better to do cough